


Coat

by cuethe_pulse



Category: Gravitation
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuethe_pulse/pseuds/cuethe_pulse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shuichi was waiting for him outside the airport, hopping around in a gotta-get-warm circle beneath an onslaught of flurries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coat

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on livejournal, Dec. 2011.

Bad Luck’s plane landed in the middle of the night and Eiri pretended to be tired and put out when he got the call, like his shoes weren’t already on and his keys weren’t in his pocket. If he drove a little faster than he should’ve on the icy roads, it was because he wanted to get back home and had nothing to do with the funny acrobatic, and probably unhealthy things his heart did whenever he saw the singer after they’d been apart for too long.  
  
Shuichi was waiting for him outside the airport, hopping around in a gotta-get-warm circle beneath an onslaught of flurries. A hat was shoved down over the familiar pink hair and he was wearing a coat Eiri didn’t recognize; but the grin that spread across the singer’s face when he noticed the car approaching, Eiri knew very well.  
  
“Yuki!” The door opened, letting in a gust of wind accented with little white flakes, and cold hands were grabbing at Eiri’s face, shivering lips pressing kisses to his cheek. “Yuki, I missed you!”  
  
“Close the door.” He did, and Eiri resumed driving as Shuichi shoved his suitcase into the backseat. “You could’ve waited inside, moron.”  
  
“Nah, I was fine. Hiro let me borrow his coat.” Shuichi snuggled further into the winter clothing. “It smells like him.” (Like the peppermints he’d spent the tour sucking on, like the cologne Ayaka bought him last year, like guitar polish and motorcycle fumes, like everything Shuichi associated with comfort and his best friend’s embrace.) Smiling, he thrust an arm in front of Eiri’s face. “ _Smell it_!”  
  
"Stop.” Eiri smacked his arm away, frowning ahead at the street, suddenly irked and rather stupidly jealous. “You didn’t bring your own?”  
  
“Left it somewhere.”  
  
“Idiot.”  
  
“Yeah,” Shuichi laughed sheepishly. He moved closer, trying to look appealing as fingers crept onto the writer’s knee. “I look good in it, though, huh?”  
  
Eiri was silent for a while, waiting until those fingers got bold and impatient and started to move before saying, “You’d look better in one of mine.”  
  
Shuichi stilled, then grinned, slowly, as Eiri’s expression grew increasingly annoyed. “Yuki.”  
  
“…What?”  
  
“That was really cute.”  
  
Eiri gritted his teeth and sped the car up. “Get out and die.”  
  
Shuichi laughed as Eiri released the wheel with one hand to push him toward the door, the sound musical and filling the car and filling that emptiness Shuichi always left behind when he was gone. And privately, Eiri could admit that he’d missed him, too.


End file.
